Security moved forward, but Jonathan raised his hand. “Wait.” His deep, commanding voice silenced the room. He stood, towering over the boy. “Who are you?”

“My name’s Marcus,” the boy said breathlessly. “I live near Long Beach. Emily’s alive, sir. She’s being held by men who don’t want you to know.”

Jonathan’s jaw tightened. “That’s impossible.”

Marcus reached into his pocket and pulled out a small silver bracelet — engraved with E.H. Jonathan’s eyes widened. It was the very bracelet he had given Emily on her eighteenth birthday.

A cold shiver ran down his spine. Could this really be true? Had he buried an empty coffin?